Marina Tsvetaeva
By Correspondence

That Castalian current,
Reciprocity, is not blocked!
By correspondence: beyond my eye
Lies, a larger reality.

Beyond calling, beyond seeing
Like a certain long la
Between my mouth and temptation
A mile of distance...

Blessed are the longitudes,
The latitudes of oblivions and strata!
Whose expanse moves into you
Like a note, like a moan

Prolonging itself in you,
Like an echo of a granite heart
Beating into you:
Don’t look and don’t listen and don’t be—

Not that I need it in black
And white—in chalk on a board!
Nearly beyond range
Of my soul, beyond range of ennui—

... As a literary conceit
The final card is dealt.
Expanse, expanse
Now you are—a blank wall!

Translated by Mary Jane White